


Paradise

by HalfshellVenus



Series: Paradise [7]
Category: Prison Break
Genre: Community: fanfic100, M/M, Male Slash, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-08 22:29:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4323213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HalfshellVenus/pseuds/HalfshellVenus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-Escape, established relationship. Stealing bliss and hoping to keep it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paradise

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [](http://fanfic100.livejournal.com/profile)[fanfic100](http://fanfic100.livejournal.com/) challenge, where I have the slash pairing of Lincoln/Michael. This is for prompt #12, “Orange.”

x-x-x-x-x

Michael can see the ocean’s waves through the kitchen window, a reminder each day of his unbelievable fortune. He slices fruit for an outdoor breakfast-- Papaya and mango, fresh from the market. These are the colors of Paradise: the bright orange fruits, the white silk sands and the clear, blue waters.

It is restful here, a calm spot in a harried world, and Michael tries not to forget that as he moves through each day. There is still so much to think about; the constant need to remain unnoticed so long as they are still fugitives, the difficulty in monitoring their status and whether Lincoln’s murder conviction still holds. Every day he hopes to finally let go, to know that the running is over, but the tide has not yet turned.

He feels Lincoln behind him now, still steamy from the shower as his arms come around Michael’s waist to pull him close. The kiss on his neck is warm and oh-so-welcome, and he turns into it to claim it before it is gone. Lincoln attacks his mouth then, with gentle determination, and soon the knife is on the table and the fruit is forgotten. Bodies together and tongues exploring each other, Michael sweeps his fingers over Lincoln’s lips and leaves traces of juice behind. He tastes it on Lincoln, then _in_ Lincoln, before his hand is pulled up and those elegant fingers are being licked and sucked on in unhurried sensuality. The sight of Lincoln caressing his fingers with his tongue, eyes closed, makes Michael hard and needy, and he nudges Lincoln back against the refrigerator as they thrust against each other in building arousal.

Their mouths are together again, and Lincoln is biting Michael just a little, nibbling and sucking on those incredibly lush lips. Michael feels himself beginning to slide toward the floor and takes Lincoln with him, dragging him downward and laying him out on the tiles where he can give him all of his attention. He straddles Lincoln, kissing him, stroking his face and hair, and unbuttons the shirt Lincoln had put on barely ten minutes ago. The skin underneath is still slightly damp, and he rubs his face against Lincoln’s chest, licking at a nipple teasingly until it hardens under his mouth and goosebumps have risen on Lincoln’s arms. One last sweep of the tongue, and then he is on to Lincoln’s neck, nuzzling and sucking below the ears, in the crook, until Lincoln is groaning up underneath his own chest and gripping Michael’s ass in an attempt to grind into him and just get a little more contact.

Michael sits up and pulls his own shirt off, watching Lincoln’s eyes get dark and intense and he watches this display and slides his hand softly up Michael’s bare back. Lincoln unfastens Michael’s pants then, teasing the skin there lower and lower down while Michael’s back arches until suddenly his legs will no longer support him.

He rolls off to the side, pulling Lincoln up against him. After a deep, probing kiss and some rubbing together half in and out of his clothes, Michael’s hand is on Lincoln’s ass and he is ready for anything.

Lincoln gets his own pants off quickly, and finished pushing Michael’s down and off. Kissing up the inside of Michael’s thighs, he mouths and caresses the skin all the way up until he has captured Michael in his mouth, head moving slowly and torturously as he enjoys the moment. Michael can barely breathe, the arousal is so sharp, and Lincoln is stroking his stomach with one hand while the other slips up to Michael’s mouth. When the fingers touch his lips, Michael sucks them in eagerly and mirrors some of the attention Lincoln is giving him. But soon they are gone, and then suddenly working their way inside him while Lincoln’s mouth continues to destroy every shred of Michael’s independence. “Oh, god!” Michael exclaims, unable to hold still with this combination of unbelievable sensations fighting for dominance over his body. He is so close, closer than he wants to be, and he pushes against Lincoln’s hair softly to back him off.

“Wait,” Michael pants. “Not this time. I want you to fuck me before I completely lose it.”

Lincoln gives one last lick, and then he is up between Michael’s legs, poised to enter and gathering Michael in close. He is inside him then, moving slowly and confidently, and Michael cannot help the whimpers and moans that come out of him at how this feels, what this means. They move in synch with one another, Michael’s legs around Lincoln’s back and their lips finding each other in utter completion, until Lincoln is shuddering and crying out Michael’s name again and again. Michael’s hand is already stroking himself, and then Lincoln is taking over and making it good, oh so good, as he thrusts with the last vestiges of his hardness and firmly jerks Michael off. “Lincoln!” Michael gasps out, and there is blackness at the edge of his vision and warmth flooding through his body at the ecstasy that consumes him, delicious and drawn out.

Lincoln settles himself down over Michael softly then, holding him and kissing him while that look of pure adoration is still in Michael’s eyes. God, they are just so good together. He strokes Michael’s forehead, leans into it, then gently rolls Michael over on top of him into a position they can enjoy for a long time without anyone becoming too heavy.

And Michael is just young enough and idealistic enough to fall asleep right here in Lincoln’s arms, never feeling the cold, hard floor underneath them. His hunger is forgotten, his whole body sated right now, and he seriously thinks he might never move again.

By the time afternoon comes, they have revived enough to be outside, lounge chairs out on the beach side by side, cold beers at hand and the waves rolling out before them. It is another beautiful day, a slight breeze stealing the edge from the heat, and Michael breathes in the fresh, living scent of the salty air.

People wander down the shore in front of them from time to time, teens with wakeboards, men with Frisbees, women of all shapes and sizes. A curvaceous brunette walks by, tanned skin setting off a blazing apricot bikini while she laughs in animated conversation with a friend. Lincoln’s head turns to follow her, and Michael feels his stomach transform into lead.

He had thought Paradise was all-encompassing, that once found it would remain simple, perfect, and unchanging. Yet now, he feels as if it might be slipping away from him already with the most careless of glances. Perhaps Paradise is not a place, or even a state of mind, but more a series of moments. This morning, so spontaneous and sensual, or those nights when they lay loving and luxuriant in each other’s arms. Their first time, back at the prison, when Michael could feel Lincoln returning his love to him completely.

Michael bites his lip and looks away, trapped by the feeling of Lincoln’s arm pressed against his, their shoulders touching. Michael knows that being his own brother’s lover has heartache written all over it. Lincoln has a Casanova reputation with the ladies, and had never shown any interest in men before being drawn into this relationship by his brother. If Michael sets his gaze down the road that is likely to follow… his heart will not be the first Lincoln has broken.

So he will take those small pieces of perfection, try to know them in all their splendor and cherish them as they occur. They might be many or few, and they might be years in coming or almost at an end. There is no way of knowing.

But then Lincoln is looking over at him, apology in his eyes and a rueful smile on his lips as he reaches over and puts his hand on Michael’s leg, squeezing a quiet apology with such gentle, careful fingers. Michael’s stomach lifts again, and he places his hand over Lincoln’s, grasping it firmly in return and smiling shyly into Lincoln’s eyes.

He sees it suddenly, here in front of him. This gesture, this answering touch, the way Lincoln sees him and knows what he’s feeling…

This, right now, is one of those moments.

 

_\----- fin -----_


End file.
